Stereotype
by Psychodahlia
Summary: A reflection on the unique qualities of the characters. Look at that: an update! Eeek and egads!
1. Chapter 1

One of the reasons Hikaru enjoys fencing is that nobody ever expects him to wield a saber. He knows how to us other swords but the saber is his favorite and what he prefers to fight with. People expect a katana, they might not be surprised at a naginata, but nobody knows what to think when he pulls the thin, razor-wire sharp blade out. The Japanese guy isn't supposed to fight with a saber. He's supposed to use a katana but only after he's finished with his calculus homework.

Hikaru hated calculus. Algebra was fine and geometry was passable but anything else is beyond him. His mother was convinced this would hurt his chances for getting into the Starfleet Academy. But as it turned out…

"Mr. Sulu, one of the reasons we accepted you is your originality. Many of our applicants try to present themselves as perfect examples of their cultural heritage. Very rarely do we get an applicant who has the courage to write 'I hate calculus and don't want to take any math classes' in the 'any additional comments' section of the application." The admissions officer smiled. His mother lightly whapped his arm, but he could tell she was pleased (and relieved). His father was covering his mouth and was shaking with laughter.

"So…do I have to take any math classes?" He wasn't so naïve as to think he could get through the Academy without ever taking a math course, but a guy could hope.

"Yes. How many depends on what you want to do."

He wanted to be the one to fly the spaceship. Not the one who made it fly, engineering involved math. Not the one who plotted out where the ship went because so did navigation. He wanted to be the one who steered the ship away from the asteroid, who performed evasive maneuvers, who turned it away from any enemies. If anyone asked him why he wanted to fly the ship he would quote some poetry by a well known, long dead author about the feeling of flying and what it feels like to engage the ship and guide her through the stars.

But the honest to God truth is he thinks it would be really cool.

Fin.

Author's notes: One of the cool things about Star Trek is that it showed different cultures but never took the easy way out and wrote them as stereotypes. I think that might be one of the reasons why it was ground breaking.

Other characters to come. Star Trek is not mine and never will be. Emo sigh.


	2. Uhura

Nyota is proud to come from Africa. That is a very important fact because many people will assume the opposite. Even her college roommate, Gaila, who was smuggled out of slavery through an underground railroad, once asked how many relatives Nyota had lost. Lost to what and how were unclear, but the point remains that people tend to think the United States of Africa is still stuck in the twenty-second century.

Nyota never lost a family member to a warlord. She went to a regular public school and her father was a host for traveling dignitaries. It was this position that allowed her to meet and speak to numerous extraterrestrials. She tried very hard to speak to them in their own languages and would often spend hours studying language textbooks and Internet vocabulary guides. This was what impressed the Vulcan Ambassador Sarek enough that he wrote her a recommendation to Starfleet Academy.

"Cadet Uhura?"

She turned around and blinked. It was like looking at a younger version of Sarek. For a moment she didn't recognize him. "Yes Sir?"

"My father wrote to tell me he was impressed by you. He does not impress easily. Congratulations."

She's not proud to have impressed someone, although she does deeply respect Ambassador Sarek. People can be impressed by anything, juggling, how far someone can throw a ball, how long they can hold a finger up their nose. Impressing someone, no matter how much you like and respect them, isn't impressive.

But impressing yourself is.

Fin.

Author's notes: Really don't have much to say on this one. Not a lot of info for Uhura. Oh wells.


	3. Kirk

Jim would never admit it but he loves Mozart. The charming little melodies remind him of the girlfriends he had in high school and the heavier notes bring to mind images of Iowa and her broad, sweeping fields. He hated Iowa but the state brings to mind an image of power. Power, strength, qualities he secretly wants for himself but resents in his step-father.

Mozart's operas are a bit too much for him but he has rented the dvds. If they get too dull or he needs a break there is always the pause button. Not to mention the dvds explain tidbits about the composer, the characters and the music. That has the added bonus of helping him pick up girls.

"Music Appreciation 101?" The girl who works in the Starfleet Academy bookstore gives him a look. "You sure you want to take that? Gen ed liberal arts can be hard enough." She thought he was a dumb hick too, although she was polite about it.

He smiles at her. "The class is supposed to look at the development of Singspiel, or a mixture of singing and talking in opera. Mozart used it in his last opera: _The Magic Flute_." He goes on to tell her the plot of the opera, stopping at the part where Papageno musically stutters out for his Papagena.

He stops there because by that point Pamina and Tamino (Bookstore Girl and Jim) are on their way to her apartment and he doesn't need to go any further.

Jim might be brash, overconfident, and hot-headed, but he's smart and does his homework. Bookstore Girl goes to a public university on the other side of the city and she majors in music. She's seen enough cadets drop out of Music Appreciation 101 to fill a spaceship. In order to impress her he'd have to be a little different from the rest. Smarter.

He's smarter than a lot of people realize. A dumb hick from Iowa? He'll let you think that for a while.

But only for a while.

Fin.

Author's notes: Not sure why, but I always see Kirk as having a secret love of Mozart. Why not?


	4. McCoy

Leonard 'Bones' enjoys basketball. The sweat clinging to his t-shirt, the pounding of ball against the court, the footwork to keep his opponent guessing, everything about the game appeals to him. Half his nurses and almost all of his patients would guess he plays golf. That's ridiculous, he hates golf.

To be fair to the game, he does enjoy swinging the clubs and there have been several times he would have liked to swing one at some idiot's head. He doesn't like being nice to fools. His bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired, a fact that got him in trouble at the Academy.

"Cadet McCoy, you can not tell a patient that there hasn't been a cure for stupidity!" The instructor was breathing heavily and her voice had an edge that suggested she was trying to keep her temper.

"He accidentally shot himself with a phaser. I can fix the wound but I can't do anything about the low IQ." He spelled it out for her slowly, just in case she didn't get the point. He's nice to accident victims and kids, everyone else should take what they can get. (His ex did)

"Cadet if you can't treat your patients like a caring physician ought than I suggest you find another line of work!" Her face is bright red and he almost cracks up looking at her.

What other work could he do? His practice went down the toilet in the divorce and besides medicine his only other skill is that data entry. He worked for a political candidate as an undergrad and spent four hours a day for six months sitting at a computer terminal. It was the most mind-numbing job he ever had.

But if he were honest with himself, he'd take the idiots over the computer any day. At least once the idiot is healed they can play basketball.

Fin.

Author's notes: Another drabble complete. A doctor that hates golf was the only thing I could think of.


	5. Spock

Spock deeply, passionately, madly loves Nyota. This is significant not only in respect to their relationship, but because Vulcans are not known to do anything deeply, passionately, or madly. The largely human crew of the Enterprise have long since figured out that he does have feelings, but his father's culture (his own?) flip flop between seeing him as a raging, emotional fool and a miracle man who overcame his mother's influence to achieve a lack of feeling.

The truth is, Spock is neither an emotional fool or a miracle man. It took him years to realize it, but the struggle between the two worlds need not be a struggle at all.

"Mr. Spock, we have never had a Vulcan apply to Starfleet before. I'm curious: do you anticipate any difficulties fitting in socially?" The admissions officer leaned forward, unashamed at his illogical question. The purpose of Starfleet was not to socialize, it was to help the Federation.

"No I do not. My mother was human and she did her best to teach me her culture's customs. I have experienced the wisdom of my father's people, now I wish to learn from my mother's home world."

The admissions officer smiled, just a bit. "A very wise and, may I say, logical, answer."

For his entire duration as a cadet, every decision he makes proves that answer to be a lie. Everything is clinically logical to the point where his roommate takes to walking around naked just to get a response out of him. His seeming lack of emotion continues into his stint as an instructor and up to the point where he meets Nyota.

He'd like to say their relationship is based on logic, that she was the obvious choice for him to start a relationship.

But the truth is he loves her and can't get enough of her.

Fin.

Author's notes: I ship this pairing so hard it makes the Titanic look like a bath toy. OTP.


	6. Chekov

Ballet is really lame. That's all Pavel can think every time he goes to the theater and sees the anorexic twits jumping around on stage like scrawny birds that have been plucked. Papa said that the Russian Ballet was the best in the world but (and he wouldn't dare admit this) Pavel would much rather be at the rock concert next door. Head banging and drunkenly singing along with the songs would be so much more fun than sitting between his parents, wondering how much longer this ballet is going to last.

But he's going to Starfleet Academy next month so maybe getting drunk wouldn't be such a great idea. He's not sure what his major will be but he knows it'll involve math so killing off brain cells is a big no. The only reason he's been accepted is because he can solve advanced Calculus problems in under two minutes at the age of twelve.

"You're test scores are off the charts, Mr. Chekov." The admissions officer is talking to him instead of his father. It's refreshing. "I'm curious, what do you like to do for fun? How do you relax?"

"I like to go roller skating and listen to rock. Oh, and this." He pulls a yo-yo out of his pocket and shows her the neat trick he just learned. Old fashioned toys are making a come back in Russia and he beams up at her, completely oblivious to how inane an answer that was.

"Can you walk the dog?" She asks, a grin spreading across her face.

He learns to walk the dog at the Academy and as time goes on, learns to walk the walk. By the time he's fifteen, he can solve those Calculus problems in forty-five seconds and he's a regular at the local indie rock scene. But as time goes on he feels the pressure to solve the problems in under thirty seconds and his major (cartography) takes up more and more time. By the time he's seventeen and a graduate he has no idea what the new bands are called and where they'll be playing. If asked he'd say he grew up and learned to concentrate on what's really important.

But the truth is he just doesn't have time for what's fun.

Fin.

Author's notes: Jailbait likes to headbang, whodathunkit?

The next chapter is a bonus, featuring an OC, Lt. Margaret 'Meg' O'Malley. Feel free to skip it if you want. She's just sort of shows up in all my ST stories and since I haven't found a way to get rid of her I figured I should explore the character a little. She's fun to write, but she is an OC, so if those aren't your thing just wait until I post Scotty's chapter.

Good news: I have a job. Real, employment, for which I thank the Lord. The good news is I can get out of the house and earn money with which I will help save the economy. The bad news is I will have less free time, so expect slower updates. Sorry.


	7. O'Malley

Meg hates and loves whiskey. Hates it because she hates everything, loves it because it makes the memories of ho-Ireland a little fuzzier. She doesn't have any special talents and she doesn't want a hobby so her activities are limited to work, picking on ensigns and drinking.

She gets drunk with Scotty because the drinking songs make the alcohol go down easier and because his accent reminds her a bit of where she came from. Between the alcohol and his accent the memories become almost pleasant.

The admissions officer cleared her throat and looked at the application. "You have very impressive references, Ms. O'Malley but I'm not seeing much in the way of extra curricular activities. What do you like to do?"

"I infiltrate terrorist cells and sell my brother out to British Intelligence agents. You can say infiltration is my hobby." Despite her hatred of everything under the sun, she would rather die than see her homeland return to 'The Troubles'. That history might be ancient, but even now the political scene is still fragile. The Irish Prime Minister rewarded such loyalty to country and betrayal of family by giving her a stunning recommendation to Starfleet Academy.

"…Oh." The admissions officer looks uncomfortable. "Well, Starfleet offers courses in survival and extraterrestrial diplomacy."

For a while Meg majors in survival tactics and foreign relations before her attitude and caustic personality forces the head of the department to move her into administration training. She graduates and is assigned to a ship.

After being officially voted 'Worst Person in the Universe' the captain gets rid of her by recommending her for promotion to Lieutenant and reassignment on to the Enterprise. If asked if she was happy she'd sneer and make a sarcastic comment. Unless she was drunk.

If she was drunk she'd get misty-eyed and murmur something about her brother.

Fin.

Author's notes: 'The Troubles' were basically Catholics vs. Protestants in Northern Ireland. You know the 'Sunday Bloody Sunday' Bono's always singing about? It's about that. Not a nice time. If my brother was in a terrorist cell trying to start that nonsense back up, I'd be angry too.

Lt. Margaret 'Meg' O'Malley is an original character. She took hold of my brain and wouldn't let go until I gave her a chapter. If you want to use her in a fic please feel free. All I ask is that she not be promoted, given any redeeming values, and that I be given credit.


	8. Scotty

Montgomery Scott is not a glutton. Yes, sandwiches are wonderful, delicious things of joy and deliciousness, but they're not the be all and end all of his world. Of the seven deadly, his burden of sin is pride. Associated with Lucifer himself, it's a bitch of a sin to deal with and he wishes he could handle it better.

But the truth is, he's good and he knows it. He souped up a forty year old Mercedes Benz when he was fourteen and made it purr like a kitten. When he was eighteen he drew up engineering plans for the construction of a small, one man space craft that could complete short errands. A personal spacecraft with better fuel economy than the versions Starfleet was using.

It got their attention. "Mr. Scott," The admissions officer purses her lips and arches an eyebrow. "you're very talented."

"Thank you." He knows that already. "Always nice to meet a fan." It's a dumb joke and her nervous laugh was off putting.

"Heh. Ah…tell me how you think you can help Starfleet achieve its mission of intergalactic unity."

That's an easy question and he blows it with realizing what he's doing. He's admitted anyway and for the next four years wows his teachers, astounds his friends and impresses girls.

Except his teachers are used to talented students, his friends are just like him and the girls prefer guys who talk about something other than themselves. Bored, he turns to his studies and original research.

Admiral Archer was not wowed, astounded or impressed when his beagle disappeared. It's not until Scotty sitting in frigid tin box on a planet inhabited by monsters that look like they were rejected by twenty-first century movie makers that he realized that he wasn't so great.

Fin.

Author's notes: This was hell to write and I don't know why. Scotty is very cool and Simon Pegg is more awesome than a can of awesome sauce. This should have been easy to write.

Bah. You can flog me with a wet noodle because it took me so long to post this.

You might think this is the end but you'd be wrong. There are others…Gaila, Admiral Pike, Nero, Ayel…


	9. Ayel

Ayel is not a sidekick. Nor is he a mindless follower bent on revenge because his leader wants to end all life in the universe. Yes, he wants revenge but he lost people too. Family, friends, a girlfriend. Life as he knew it ended because Spock was too slow. It hurts to think about and a lot of nights he just wants to hit something.

Some nights he cries. Softly, so nobody can hear. They're Romulans, emotions are not to be mocked, certainly not emotions that everyone is feeling, but still. Ayel is a private man and he does not want the rest of the crew to see the ship's second in command sniffling and wiping tears from his eyes. Rage, hate and anger are acceptable to show and acknowledge. Sorrow and hurt are something else.

The only person who knows about it is Nero and that is by accident. The Captain of the Narada comes to his quarters one night to talk about their food supply or some such mundane thing and is shocked to see Ayel with tears running down his face. For a moment it looks like he wants to leave but Nero is a leader and if a member of his crew needs him, he is there. He sits on the floor next to his friend and pulls him into an embrace.

"If you never mention this again then neither will I. But I am your Captain and I will never abandon you." He says that with such conviction, like he's promising himself that as well.

"It hurts." Ayel chokes out. "It hurts and that damned Vulcan will never…can never know what it feels like."

"He will know." Nero murmurs. "He will feel loneliness and loss and pain. Vulcans have emotions, we just have to bring them to the surface. But I swear he will suffer."

They stay like that for hours. Ayel does not feel any less lonely or murderous because of it but he does feel reassured. Someone else understands what he is feeling. Someone else cares about his emotions. Someone was willing to stay with him, hold him and promise him the death and suffering of the one who betrayed their trust. Nero cares about him.

That's why Ayel is his friend and not just his sidekick.

Fin.

Author's notes: This one was hard to write. I mean, trying to get inside the head of someone who lost everything they ever knew or cared about is really heart-wrenching. But this is one of my favorite chapters because of it. And also because I had a realistic reason to take two hardcore, homicidal and destructive characters and let them get in touch with their feelings.

Sorry for the long time between updates but work got a little crazy and when I come home I'm usually pretty beat. The good news is I'm getting a team so we'll be able to spread the work out a little more evenly.


End file.
